Philadelphia
by MikaelaLovesMusic
Summary: How did Zach get into the political party in Philadelphia in Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover? What was going through his head in the moments on the train? Covers chapters 17-19 from Zach's POV. Oneshot. Zach x Cammie.


**A little oneshot from Zach's POV- how he gets to the train station in Philadelphia and chapters 17-19 of ****Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover****. **

**Spoiler alert! A lot of stuff from Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover in here.**

**Also, I don't own the Gallagher Girls series.**

Maybe I was insane. I probably was. Maybe I was just desperate. To see her, my Gallagher Girl. To talk to her.

To warn her.

But whatever I was- insane or desperate, it was fueling me to get to the Winters-McHenry convention at a train station in Philadelphia.

I took out my backpack- my only possession while I was on the run. I placed it on the bathroom counter of the cheap motel I had broken into to stay in for the night. I regretted my whole night there. First off, the beds sucked. I might as well have been sleeping on a rock. Second, it was creepy. I swear there was a whole rat colony living in that room. But it was way better than the other questionable places I've dropped for the night. Seriously. Let's just say barns and caves have not exactly been the best bedrooms I've had this year.

I took out the lame disguise I had managed to grab from Blackthorne before I left it for good. I was being chased by seven burly men with very large axes. This was the only thing I managed to grab from our disguises room. A Einstein-white wig, wispy white eyebrows, and a thick mustache to match. I put those on and hopped into the suit that I had worn at Boston.

I stowed a ride in the cavernous trunk of a limo going to the Winters-McHenry political dinner. I stashed a few things from my backpack into the pockets of my suit and discarded the backpack in some nearby bushes.

_Alright, time to get in._ I thought as I walked up to the two secret service agents standing guard. This may have been only the side of the train station, but it was nevertheless fully protected by barbed wire and secret service agents.

"Excuse me, young man, I seemed to have lost my way. Could you please tell me how to get to the entrance?" I asked politely in my old man voice I had created for this disguise.

"Of course, sir. I'll lead the way for you." He looked sympathetically, probably thinking _Weak old man._ Boy, how wrong he was.

So then I got to the entrance, past the guards and the security cameras. The next problem was pretty big. How would I get in?

I was relieved when the Gallagher Academy CoveOps teacher recognized me.

"Father, come on in! What are you doing standing outside?" Mr. Solomon waved.

I pretended to look forgetful of my position and I hobbled over to him.

The guard called out to me. "Sir! If you would please check in first."

I panicked. But then I felt an ID card slip into my hand. Mr. Solomon. I looked at the name. It was an identification card for a senior by the name Hugh Buckingham. How British royalty. I felt in my pockets for my identification stickers of my old man costume and stuck it over the picture. This took less than a second. I showed the man my ID and I walked in with Mr. Solomon.

I spotted Cammie right away. She was wearing a sleek black wig, green color contacts and a fake nose. But best of all, she was wearing a black dress. Tight and short. Was I salivating? Great. I'm a pervert now.

I quickly looked away. Old men did not check out young and attractive women. Then again, old men do not stow away on limos.

I walked around, fake-socializing with people about politics that I couldn't care less about. I needed to scan the perimeters- make sure she was safe without acting obvious about it. I skimmed through the crowd, feeling her eyes on my back.

_She's on to me,_ I thought. Thankfully, the Presidential candidate's son stopped her. What was his name? Pinkerton? Preston, that's what it was. I chuckled to myself as she used flirting to get past him. Flirting! But it seemed to work because Preston was squirming around like a worm on a hook, gulping every few seconds.

And then they stopped talking. I watched as Cammie followed me into the tunnel. Why was she doing this? Putting herself in danger? More importantly, why was _I _doing that by leading her into the tunnel? What kind of stupid spy was I? I started to dart off back to the Grand Hall to lead her back to the well-populated area instead of the cold, dark tunnel.

I saw Cammie creep through the tunnel in my peripheral vision. Then Cammie's friend, Bex, covered her mouth and pulled her close. I saw Cammie struggle in surprise.

I went into conversation with Mr. Solomon, of course talking in code. He understood that I was here to protect Cammie, and walked off into the dark tunnel to investigate. I followed him, so busy keeping my eyes on Cammie that I forgot to cover my walk with the old-man one I had done earlier. I felt her eyes zoom on my face, and then-

Oh crap.

She knows.

I thought quickly as I jumped on the train. Mr. Solomon continued into the tunnel. I watched behind me as Cammie jumped on, too.

Quickly and nimbly, I snuck into a random compartment- apparently it was compartment 14. I locked the door. Of course, it was just a lock-something Cammie could get past within a few seconds. I prayed silently that she wouldn't have some insane gut feeling to follow me into the compartment.

But it wasn't the gut feeling I had to worry about. It was Cammie's aunt, the person who Cammie was trying to hide from. I could feel Cammie's desperateness as she picked the lock, to escape from her aunt. I held my breath.

The door opened.

Cammie stepped inside, her eyes in a panic as she took in the surroundings. Without thinking, I ripped her wig off and pretended that I'd just realized that the person under the wig was her.

I came here to warn her, right? And I was going to do that. I knew she wasn't going to take it if I said it lightly.

"You aren't supposed to be here, Gallagher Girl," I whispered in a tone that radiated anger. I would never forgive myself for doing this, but she had to know that this was serious.

Her face twisted in confusion, but that quickly faded into anger. "You're telling _me _that I shouldn't be here?" she snapped. I winced inside. It was the worst feeling in the world having her angry at me.

"It's dangerous," I said stupidly. Duh!

"In case you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself." _No, you can't Gallagher Girl._ I thought. _This isn't a CoveOps exercise. It's real, and people get hurt._

As to demonstrate, the train lurched and she fell into my arms. Her face displayed chagrin for the irony of her last comment.

"Shhh," I whispered. Voices were still out in the hall, and I knew she would be in big trouble if her aunt Abby or any other Secret Service agent found out we were in here. We could fool untrained people, but not actual, top-notch security operatives.

I looked down at her startled face. I wrapped my arms around her, bringing her closer. Her face was so close to mine. So beautiful, even with the fake nose that didn't look half as good as her real nose did. I wanted to kiss her right there, tell her I would protect her until the end of time. That I would never let anyone touch her.

But I had to stay focused. It was hard to resist the urge to kiss her then and there, but I did. She looked disappointed that I didn't kiss her, and that made me feel even worse.

I attempted to cut through the awkwardness. "Nice disguise." I smiled, just so she would know that I wasn't mad at her. I absolutely wasn't.

"You too," she said. "It looked even better in Boston."

She knew. Of course she knew I was in Boston. How could she not? She was one of the best spies I knew. "Yeah, I-" I stumbled. But then there was the knocking. I panicked inside, and her eyes turned wide as she did, too.

I thought on my feet. "Here." I gestured to the collapsible overhead sleeping bunks. Thank god Cammie had locked the door when she came in, because the people outside-whoever they were- were fumbling around for keys. I helped Cammie get into the bunks. We were squashed up against each other. I tried to get any romantic thoughts out of my head. I needed to focus on hiding, not flirting.

"What's going on, Zach?" she whispered, her eyes in a frenzy.

Her aunt Abby and her friend Macey were outside arguing about something. They would come in any second now, and we needed to be quiet.

But Cammie didn't realize this. "You were in Boston, Zach," she pressed, looking for answers.

"Shhh," I warned, pulling her closer. I _needed _her closer. So I could, er, protect her.

I studied her face as she listened to Macey and Pinkerton, I mean Preston, talking in the background. And then she turned back to me. I could practically feel her thinking with all her might.

"That's how you knew about the laundry chute," she hissed. "Why were you there, Zach?" I saw something in her eyes. Desperation. For answers.

"Not now." I continued studying her face. I wanted to remember it forever- or if I ended up dying, then I wanted it to be the last thought in my head. Her face was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Her voice broke through my thoughts. "And don't say it was because we were in danger, because at the time we _weren't _in danger."

_Yes, you were, _I thought but didn't speak. "You want to take a nap or something?" I whispered jokingly. I bet she looked even prettier when she slept.

She ignored my last sentence. "Yeah, and while we're on the subject, why are you _here_?"

I wanted to tell her the real reason: because I knew it was inevitable that she would sneak out to be here, and I need to protect her. But I couldn't tell her that. "I could as the same thing of you, Gallagher Girl, except we should be _shutting up_ now." It was true. The situation wasn't exactly great to have a casual, Sunday morning talk.

Her eyes grew wide. The voices had stopped, and for some reason, she looked totally surprised. But she managed to ask me one more question. "What were you and Mr. Solomon talking about?" she asked desperately, obviously trying to break the awkward silence that had formed.

"You don't get it, do you?" I brought my face closer to hers. "This is dangerous, Cammie." I said her name for emphasis. "This is-"

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out the day I woke up with a concussion."

I winced at my failure to stop that from happening. "Don't make light of this."

"What about 'concussion' is synonymous with 'making light'?" Great. She had a point.

"You shouldn't be here," I repeated myself, as if I hadn't said it enough times.

"_You're_ here," she snapped.

"Listen, this is no place for…"

"A girl?"

"A student? What, Zach? Tell me what you are that I'm not."

I decided to lay down the cold, hard truth of it all. "I'm someone who doesn't have anything to lose," I whispered.

Her face paled a little bit. I touched her cheek to calm her down.

I felt the bed give, and like Jack and Jill, we went tumbling down.

Macey was right there to greet us. "Well, _this _wasn't on my agenda."

I felt so stupid, not being able to predict the bunk would collapse. Also, I was right on top of Cammie, my leg tangled with a backpack. I squirmed like an idiot, trying to free myself from the particularly embarrassing situation.

Macey was smirking as she managed to throw off the Secret Service agents coming to her aid. She used her fake bratty attitude, which I had seen her wield several times. Man, that girl was dangerous.

"Hi, Zach," she sat down.

"Hey, Macey," I tried nonchalantly. "Sorry to drop in," I gave Cammie a cocky grin. She rolled her eyes. "but Cammie just had to be alone with me. You know how she gets." I grinned.

She delivered a blow to my arm. She didn't know her own strengths, because that actually hurt- a _lot_. "You know, you're going to hurt me one of these days, and then you're going to feel really bad about it." I thought about how there was only one way she could truly hurt me, and that was by breaking my heart.

She jumped to defend herself. "Yeah, well maybe if you would be honest with me for one-"

"Um, just so you know, Abby will be back in approximately two minutes, so you lovebirds might want to make this quick." Despite this, the smug smile on her face just wouldn't go away.

"Thanks." I leaned out the window, out into the utter darkness. "This is my stop anyway."

Cammie's face looked shocked, and somewhere deep inside. I felt worry. For me.

I grinned to myself.

"Hey, McHenry, you mind?" I gestured for her to stall the guard while I made my leave. Macey and the guard were distracted. It was my time for me to do something that I came here to do.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl. Promise me something." I looked straight into her stunning eyes and held her arm.

"Be" –I reached and lightly touched her bruised arm. A painful reminder of my failure.- "careful."

I opened the door and felt the strong wind attack my face. This was it. This was my stop. I got my parachute ready, and spread my arms out wide.

And I jumped out into the night, flashes of Cammie's face keeping me warm in the cold, harsh winds of Philadelphia.

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